Christopher Priest - The Inverted World

“Good. Then there’s someone who would like to see you before you go.”

He gestured towards an inner door, and Helward walked over to it. Beyond it was a smaller room, and here his father was waiting for him.

Helward’s first reaction was surprise, immediately followed by one of incredulity. He had seen his father last not more than ten days ago as the man was riding north; now, in that short period, it seemed to Helward that his father had aged suddenly and horribly. As he walked in his father stood up, balancing himself with an unsteady hand on the seat of his chair. He turned painfully, and faced Helward. His whole manner was marked with advanced age: he stood hunched, his clothes hung on him badly and the hand that came forward was trembling.

“Helward! How are you, son?”

The manner had changed too. There was no trace of the diffidence to which Helward had grown so accustomed.

“Father… how are you?”

“I’m fine, son. I’ve got to be taking it easy now, the doctor says. I’ve been north once too often.” He sat down again, and instinctively Helward stepped forward and helped him into his seat. “They tell me you’re going down past. Is that right?”

“Yes, father.”

“You be careful, son. There’s a lot down there will give you thought. Not like up future… that’s my place.”

Clausewitz had followed Helward, and was now standing in the doorway.

“Helward, you ought to know that your father has been given an injection.”

Helward turned away from his father.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“He came back to the city last night, complaining of chest pains. It’s been diagnosed as angina, and he’s been given a painkiller. He ought to be in bed.”

“O.K. I shan’t be long.”

Helward knelt on the floor beside the chair.

“Do you feel all right now, father?” he said.

“I told you… I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. How’s Victoria?”

“She’s getting on fine.”

“Good girl, Victoria.”

“I’ll tell her to visit you,” said Helward. It was a terrible thing to see his father in this condition. He had no idea that his father was growing so old… but he had not looked like this a few days ago. What had happened to him in the meantime? They talked for a few more minutes, but soon his father’s attention began to wander. Eventually, he closed his eyes and Helward stood up.

“I’ll get one of the medics,” said Clausewitz, and hurried out of the room. When he returned a few minutes later there were two of the medical administrators with him. Gently, they picked the old man up and carried him out to the corridor, where a wheeled trolley draped in white was waiting.

“Will he be all right?” said Helward.

“He’s being looked after, that’s all I can say.”

“He looks so old,” said Helward, unthinkingly. Clausewitz himself was in advanced years, though in demonstrably better health than his father.

“An occupational hazard,” said Clausewitz.

Helward glanced at him sharply, but there was no further information forthcoming. Clausewitz picked up the metal-studded boots, and pushed them towards Helward.

“Here… try these on,” he said.

“My father… will you ask Victoria to visit him?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll deal with it.”

Helward rode in the elevator to the second level, the packs and equipment loaded in beside him. When the car stopped he keyed the door-hold button, and went along to the room to which Clausewitz had directed him. Here, four women and a man were waiting for him. As soon as he entered the room, Helward realized that only the man and one of the women were city administrators.

He was introduced to the other three, but they glanced at him briefly and looked away. Their expressions revealed a suppressed hostility, deadened by an indifference that until that moment Helward himself had felt. Until entering the room he had given no thought as to who the women might be, nor even had he speculated about their appearance. In fact, he recognized none of them, but hearing Clausewitz speak of them Helward had associated them in his mind with the women he had seen in the settlements while riding north with Barter Collings. Those women had been in general thin and pallid, their eyes deep-sunk over prominent cheekbones, their arms scrawny, and their chests flat. Dressed more often than not in ragged, filthy clothes, flies crawling over their faces, the women of the villages outside were pitiful wretches.

These three had none of these characteristics. They wore neat, well-fitting city clothes, their hair was clean and well cut, their flesh was round and full, and their eyes were clear. To his barely concealed surprise Helward saw that they were very young indeed: scarcely older than himself. The people of the city spoke of the women who were bartered from outside as if they were mature… but these were nothing more than girls.

He knew he was staring at them, but they paid him no attention. What struck him hardest was the growing suspicion that these three had once been similar to the wretches he had seen in the villages, and that by being brought to the city they had been restored temporarily to an approximation of the health and beauty that might have been theirs had they not been born into poverty.

The woman administrator gave him a brief description of their background. Their names were Rosario, Caterina, and Lucia. They spoke a little English. Each had been in the city for more than forty miles, and each had given birth to a baby. There were two boys and a girl. Lucia — who had given birth to one of the boys-did not wish to keep the child, and it was to stay in the city and be brought up in the crèche. Rosario had chosen to keep her baby boy, and it would be going with her back to the settlement. In Caterina’s case there had been no choice… but in any event she had expressed indifference about losing her baby daughter.

The administrator explained that Rosario was to be given as much of the powdered milk as she asked for, because she was still suckling the baby. The other two would have the same food as himself.

Helward tried a friendly smile on the three girls, but they took no notice of him. When he tried to look at Rosario’s baby, she turned her back on him and clutched it to her possessively.

There was nothing more to be told. They walked along the corridor towards the elevator, the three girls carrying their few belongings. They crowded into the car and Helward keyed the button to take them to the lowest level.

The girls continued to ignore him, and spoke to each other in their own language. When the car opened on to the dark passageway beneath the city, Helward struggled to remove the equipment. None of the girls helped him, but watched with amused expressions. With difficulty Helward picked up the various packs and staggered towards the southern exit.

Outside, the sun was dazzlingly bright. He put down the packs and glanced round.

The city had been winched since he was last outside, and now track-crews were taking up the rails. The girls shaded their eyes, and looked about them. It was probably their first sight of the outside since coming to the city.

The baby in Rosario’s arms began to cry.

“Will you help me with this?” Helward said, meaning the stack of food and equipment. The girls stared at him uncomprehendingly. “We ought to share the load.”

They made no reply so he squatted down on the ground, and opened the pack containing the food. He decided it would not be right to expect Rosario to carry any extra weight, so he divided the food into three packets, giving one each to the other two and returning the rest to his pack. Lucia and Caterina reluctantly found room for the food packets in their holdalls. The length of rope was the most unwieldy part of the load and so Helward contrived to wind it into a tighter roll, and stuffed it into the pack. The grapple and pitons he managed to get into the pack containing the tent and the sleeping-bags. Now his load was more manageable but not much lighter, and in spite of what Clausewitz had said Helward felt tempted to abandon most of it.